


Kitty-Corner From Paradise

by theantepenultimateriddle



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: F/M, Trans Male Character, implications of abuse, noir aestheticism i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theantepenultimateriddle/pseuds/theantepenultimateriddle
Summary: An outcast from polite society, Mordred stands on the outside looking in. A prisoner in a golden cage, Fran can’t help but reach through her bars.
Relationships: Frankenstein's Monster | Berserker of Black/Mordred | Saber of Red
Kudos: 13





	Kitty-Corner From Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic in which I tried to channel, not exactly a noir writing style, but more of a noir aesthetic (because I like it). I posted this on tumblr a while back but now it’s here, might follow up later.

Mordred, dressed in a rumpled pinstriped suit and a pair of shoes he’s nearly worn through on the soles, standing out in the dirty and rain-slicked city streets and listening to the sound of distant sirens. His face is lit only by the orange glow from his cigarette. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but his head is tilted up in such a way that makes it clear he’s looking into the well-lit windows of the tall building across from him. Inside there’s a ball taking place, one where the highest of the city’s high society dance and laugh without a single thought for the bitter world filled with have-nots around them. Mordred’s heart feels torn in two— one part says he’s better off without that world of glitter and money and fake, shining smiles, and the other won’t stop whispering that if it wasn’t for the family that disowned him he could be inside and out of the cold. The wetness of the ground soaks through his shoes.

Eve Frankenstein, standing inside the building and looking through the window at the world outside. A pair of white silk gloves cover her arms up to her elbows, red lipstick covers her mouth, and a veil of hair hides both her eyes and the scars around them. The lights reflecting off every surface are so bright that she has to struggle just to look past her reflection. Around her people talk and socialize and dance, but she doesn’t hear them. She wouldn’t be able to if she tried. So instead she looks out the window and lets the partygoers discuss her like she’s a curiosity— Victor Frankenstein’s unmarried daughter, the ice queen who disdains any attempt to speak to her. Her father wouldn’t have them think of her any other way; to do so would make her a disgrace to him and the Frankenstein name. The claustrophobic heat of bodies presses in around her, and it’s all she can do to breathe.

Mordred stares into the building. Fran looks out.

Their eyes lock.

To Mordred, the semi-hidden gaze of the girl inside tastes like champagne on his tongue, warms him like a crackling fire in his core. To Fran, the sight of the man outside brings with it a cool breeze on her face and the scent of smoke and metal. The moment, though, the moment feels the same to both.

It feels like the beginning of the end.


End file.
